[ Featuring Chris Durso, Aha Gazelle ]
Yeah, I look Sicilian and talk like Italians
You know the boot that is kickin' the island
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Flying commercial, I need it be private
Yeah, yeah, yeah
See my whole team, and you know where to find us
Yeah you know where to find me
I'm drowning in grace
When I look at my past and how it don't match up
My sin's been erased
Now they say that we great
I just say that you late
Independent so long when the labels would call we all thought it was fake
And I feel out of place
Like I'm from outer space
If they try to ride a wave
Just tell them you late
God got me out here shinin'
Real bright man I feel like TV Johnny
You make my darkest days brighter
You turn my noose into diamonds
We come alive in the late night
Matter fact we Michael Jordan with the hang time
We get fly and go drive at the same time
Then we hop up out the car
Man I wish somebody would let your boy mess around and get their wings chopped
Twenty deep riding through at a Wing Stop
Flyer than an Easter Sunday reverend
And all of us are on our way to heaven, yeah
I woke up feeling like a new man
Ironically I'm a year older, dig it
To book us it's not really too much
Uncomfortable, my soul, dig it
Yeah, yeah go figure
I've been somebody with no figures
Hustle hard, go to prison
Then bounce back, I got court vision
Need more? Listen
I've toured a distance
Five year plan in full effect
But my ten year plan bring more provision
I think rappers need a litmus test
This game a mess the more I listen
Young rappers with no stories
Trying to be where this grace brought me
Internet got 'em brainwashed
Not to mention, they ain't got nothing for me
I'm a coach to the Yankees, I'm equivalent to a Joe Torre
God got me out here shinin'
Real bright man I feel like TV Johnny
You make my darkest days brighter
You turn my noose into diamonds
We come alive in the late night
Matter fact we Michael Jordan with the hang time
We get fly and go drive at the same time
Then we hop up out the car
Man I wish somebody would let your boy mess around and get their wings chopped
Twenty deep riding through at a Wing Stop
Flyer than an Easter Sunday reverend
And all of us are on our way to heaven, yeah
Nobody wants to wait anymore
I don't want it a second too early, or a second too late
God's timing is perfect. Misfits move like soldiers
We operate to the beat of God's drum
We step when He says so, and stop when He stops
Misfits wait because we know that if that's where He wants us, then that's where it's best for us
We are the Messiah's soldiers
